


Working Relationships

by anmaya



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:21:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29049831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anmaya/pseuds/anmaya
Summary: This takes place sometime shortly after The Enterprise crew first comes together, and focuses on Will Riker and the friendships he begins to form with the officers and crew.  A little R/T.
Relationships: William Riker/Deanna Troi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

“So what can I do for you today, Commander?” Counselor Deanna Troi inquired politely after he was seated on the other side of her desk..

William Riker hesitated a moment and then plunged ahead. “I know that Star Fleet’s official position is that every crewmember, regardless of species or planetary origin be treated the same.”

She nodded, suspecting where he was going with this, but preferring to let him squirm a little over what was actually a perfectly reasonable request.

“Not to seem xenophobic or anything" he continued, "but I think it’s only natural to assume that there are some differences in the best way to handle people. Most of the crew members are from species that I’ve had some experience with, but there are a few that I was wondering if you could give me some insight on. Just your thoughts on how I can be a better commanding officer with them.”

He was uncomfortable enough with being in her office, and with his request, that she had to cave and let him off the hook. They were going to have to work together, and he was obviously trying hard to establish a cooperative professional relationship with her despite their history together “I think that’s a realistic attitude.” She allowed, “Sometimes Star Fleet tries to deny our differences, but our disparate cultures do contribute to the way we interact with each other.”

He gave her a ghost of his normally high-wattage smile, and handed over the padd he was holding. It was a list of the 38 nonhuman members of the Enterprise crew. She glanced over it. “OK, let’s just go down through the list, and you can tell me which ones you have questions about. Aavik is Vulcan – I assume you’re familiar?” 

He nodded “Yes, of course.” There were quite a few Vulcans in Star Fleet these days, and he’d worked closely with several. She moved on to the next, and they had a brief chat about the Andorians’ strong aversion to being touched by non-family members and the Telcatian habit of avoiding eye contact, a trait that often gave the impression that they were insincere, despite usually being the exact opposite. As they talked, she found they were both relaxing, the focus on work allowing them to put aside the awkwardness they’d both been feeling. He was easy to talk to, and she found herself appreciating his willingness to adjust his own behavior to make the crew more comfortable. They continued down the list, coming across two species that neither one of them had any familiarity with, and she promised to set up meetings with them and let him know of any impression she was able to garner from them. When they came to a Novutian, who she had no experience with, he regaled her with a story about a week he had spent on Novus 4 and how he’d been taken aback by the Novutian’s tendency toward loud confrontations that seemed to threaten to erupt into violence at any second but never did and were frequently followed by gales of laughter.

At the next name on the list, she couldn’t help but smile and he cocked his head, unable to read the padd upside down. “I assume you don’t need any coaching on how to deal with Betazoids?” she asked him primly.

He grinned at her with mischief in his sparkling blue eyes. “You tell me.”

For a moment she was taken back to their time on Betazed and how he had tried so hard to understand her culture and the Betazoid philosophy of life. She remembered him the first time she’d seen him at Chandra’s wedding, so self conscious in his nudity but determined to honor their traditions. She remembered the moment they had become Imzadi, when he looked at her in wonder as he felt her in his mind for the first time. Given the current state of their relationship she certainly didn’t want to bring that up, and so she cast about for a more innocuous example that would still let him know she remembered. She recalled the day at the art museum, standing in front of her favorite painting with the handsome human that she barely knew, and smiled. “Don’t call their soul paintings gloppy.”

She was surprised at his reaction. His grin faded, and was replaced with a fleeting wince and then a wistful smile. She could sense a deep ache that he’d hidden so well up until now. “Sorry.” He said softly, and she knew he wasn’t referring to the painting anymore. She wondered, could it be possible that he felt the same hollowness where their bond should be? Their eyes met for a long moment, and she thought to herself how easily she could fall back into love with him. Instead, she looked back down at her padd.

“The last name on the list is Lieutenant Worf.”

It took him a second to regain his focus, but she could feel his relief that she’d changed the topic. “Worf." He repeated. "Now that is one I need some advice on. I don’t know if it’s my own cultural prejudice, but during the interactions I’ve had with Mr. Worf, I get the distinct impression that he is not amused by my command style and isn’t quite sure if he wants to follow my orders or disembowel me with a bat’leth. ”

“I’m not sure he knows quite how to take you, Will. In Klingon culture the superior officer does not interact with his subordinates in a casual manner. It shows weakness. Mr. Worf is much more comfortable with Captain Picard, because he maintains much more formality with his crew.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not Captain Picard.”

“No, you’re not. But it’s not unfortunate. Your styles complement each other well, and I think that’s one of the reasons the Captain chose you as first officer. You have an ability to connect with people on a different level than he does.” It was true, and one of the things she admired most about him.

“Except with Worf.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way. Klingons are very proud of their culture and wary of any perceived ‘softness’. Perhaps you can find a common ground with Mr. Worf and demonstrate your worthiness as a commander by showing that you share some of the same values and experiences.”

“So you want me to let him beat me with pain sticks?” Riker asked with a grin and she rolled her eyes.

“Actually, that might not be a bad idea. I know you enjoy physical challenges. You rock climb. You practice martial arts…what is it called – that thing where you beat on each other blindfolded with sticks? Amber….”

It was his turn to roll his eyes “Ambu jitsu.”

She nodded. “Yes – that. It sounds like something a Klingon warrior might enjoy.”

Will sat back in his chair and nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah.” He thought for a moment. “You know, I always thought it would be interesting to learn how to use a bat’leth – I imagine some of the techniques are similar to ambu-jitsu.”

She nodded encouragingly. “That might be an excellent way to approach Mr. Worf.”

“…and if he doesn’t like it, it will give him an excellent excuse to finally disembowel me.” Riker added wryly and she laughed. “It sounds to me, Commander, that either way your issue with the lieutenant will be resolved.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Riker’s first visit to sickbay

Deanna Troi and Beverly Crusher were already seated at the table in the conference room chatting when Will Riker entered. Assuming they were occupied with their conversation, He lowered himself gingerly into a chair at the other end of the table, grimacing involuntarily at the move. 

He was just about to breathe a sigh of relief for making it this far without attracting attention, when Dr. crusher interrupted his premature assumption. 

“Commander? Are you alright?” he looked down the table and found both women watching him carefully.

He gave them what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Just fine, thank you.””

He saw Crusher reaching in her pocket for her tricorder and groaned silently to himself. He did not want to have to explain this.

“just overdid my workout yesterday”. He told her hastily.

Fortunately, at that moment the rest of the senior staff, followed by Picard came through the door, distracting the doctor from any further inquiries.

For the next half hour he was almost able to forget the ache in his lower ribs. As long as he held himself still it wasn’t bad at all. They were reviewing the procedures for their upcoming scheduled visit to the Trainor mining colony where Crusher’s team would be delivering and distributing a vaccine to help bring a viral pandemic under control. The doctor was going over her plans and had completely forgotten about him. But when he looked at Troi she was looking back at him with a bemused expression and he wasn’t sure if she was sensing his physical discomfort or his fervent desire to hide it.

When the meeting ended he lingered at the table, ostensibly reading notes on his padd while the others rose to leave. He wasn’t looking forward to standing up and he preferred to not have an audience. He willed Crusher to just leave, but at the doorway she turned. “Oh, Commander? I’d like you to report to sickbay. You need your second dose of the vaccine, and perhaps we can take care of the residual effects of your workout?” She smiled sweetly and he let his head drop in defeat. The doctor was relentless. 

“ok- I’ll stop by in an hour or two- I have a few things I need to take care of first.” He conceded.

“See that you do. You don’t want me to have to come looking for you, Commander.”

He grinned, then. “Is that a threat, Doctor?” And she smiled widely back at him before heading out the door. He caught the words “no. It’s a promise” just before the door closed completely behind her.

Two hours later he sat shirtless on the bio bed while she gently touched the purplish bruise on his side. “No wonder you were moving like an old man! You’ve got two cracked ribs here! Just what kind of workout were you doing?”

“Mr. Worf is teaching me to use a bat’leth. I zigged when I should have zagged. “

“Are you insane! You could get killed that way! I’ve seen those weapons! They’re razor sharp!”

“Well, actually Worf replicated some training bat’leths for us. The kind they use for kids when they’re learning.”

She ducked her head to hide her smile as she pretended to type the words she spoke into his chart on the computer. “Patient reports he was injured with a child’s toy….”

“Hey! Make sure you mention that there was a very large Klingon on the the other end of that toy!” he exclaimed with mock indignation.

She laughed. She was really starting to like the first officer. When she first met him she’d been a little worried that he was going to be one of those gung-ho military types, but he clearly had a sense of humor. “ am I to assume you also need something for your bruised ego- or is there another reason why you didn’t come to sickbay when this happened ?”

He turned serious. “Doctor….” He hesitated “may I call you Beverly?”

She nodded. “Of course….”

“Will”. He supplied.

“Will.”

“The reason I didn’t come to sickbay is because I don’t want it getting back to Mr. Worf or to anyone else, that he injured me.”

“You think that would make you look bad?”

“No …or at least I didn’t until you mentioned the thing about the kid’s toy.” He told her wryly before turning serious “the thing is, it can’t be easy for Lt. Worf. I think most of us are guilty of making certain assumptions about him just because he’s Klingon.And he’s a proud man who is not going to pretend to be something he’s not just to make people comfortable. Klingon/Starfleet relations have a pretty rocky past. I’m trying to find a way to bridge that gap- earn his respect and make him feel like a respected member of this crew in return. Deanna…uh…Counselor Troi and I think that training together might be a good way to facilitate that. I don’t want to sabotage that opportunity just because I was clumsy.”

The Doctor inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement. “I guess it’s not too different from the dance group I’m trying to get together with a few people from different cultural backgrounds. It’s good to find common ground in the things we enjoy.”

He was relieved that she understood. “Exactly!”

“But there is one big difference, Will. Dancing with others doesn’t normally come with the threat of a punctured lung”

“Well, it might if you danced with a Klingon. I think I remember reading about some ceremonial sword dance that happens at weddings.”

“Great. I’ll remember not to dance at Klingon weddings. But you just be careful. I know you’re pretty tough as far as humans go, but Klingons definitely have an advantage in strength and durability. Don’t overdo it- and for gods sakes come and see me if you get hurt. Deal?”

He nodded. “deal.”

“Good. Now just lie down. I’m going to put the regenerator on you for about ten, fifteen minutes and then you’ll be good as new.”

He complied and she set the equipment up and started the sequence. “I’m going to lower the lights so they’re not glaring in your eyes. Just lay still and relax. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She was almost to the door when he called “hey, Beverly…thanks.”

She turned back to look at him and frowned slightly. “why do I get a feeling you’re going to be a frequent flyer in my sickbay?”

“Because you want to keep seeing my pretty face?” He suggested, looking up at her with his ridiculously blue eyes and giving her his most innocent look.

She raised one eyebrow at him. “Deanna was right about you.” She observed as she headed for the door.

“Wait? What does that mean?” He exclaimed, sitting partially up and sucking in his breath as his ribs reminded him that wasn’t a good idea.

Beverly just kept going, smirking to herself as she went.

Will Riker laid back down, closed his eyes, contemplating what life was going to be like with the ship’s counselor and the ship’s physician ganging up on him. He opened his eyes again and spoke to his reflection in the regenerator arm. “damn. You are so screwed.”


End file.
